


Replay Value

by Listless_Songbird



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, Canon-Typical Body Horror, Gen, I have rubbed my grubby little hands on this universe and adjusted it wherever I pleased, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Time Travel Fix-It, at least at the start but it has spoilers from season four, different POVs, mid-season 4, of a sort, trans!Jon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22568110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listless_Songbird/pseuds/Listless_Songbird
Summary: Jon once again gets dragged along behind cosmic forces he doesn't quite understand and somehow ends up in the past.Hindsight is 20/20 and Jon is going to do things right this time.Probably.[This is a rewrite of my old fic by the same title, I didn’t like where I was going with it and with the end of season 4’s revelations well…]
Relationships: Georgie Barker & Jonathan Sims
Comments: 44
Kudos: 286





	1. Statement…

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the new and improved version of this fic! I finally have my act together and actually have a plot in mind! I hope you enjoy!

It may have been a poor decision to record his own Statement.

He thought it would be fine, especially considering the fact that he’d recorded his encounter with his first Leitner and that hadn’t caused any unexpected problems. It was perhaps a bit more intense than normal, what with his actual memories layering on top of the first person view of the event that always happened with the true  _ Statements _ . But then again that Statement had been about a single event from long ago, and perhaps most importantly he hadn’t recorded it inside the Archives. 

It wasn’t even supposed to be an actual Statement anyways. It was just supposed to be a way to organize his thoughts, like a postscript. A way to record his memories before they were corrupted by his own downward spiral into monsterhood. Memories were supposed to be subjective. They were supposed to be able to be tinged by emotion and warped by time but as he began to Know more and more all subjectivity of an event began to get cauterized away. 

Just one more piece of humanity falling away. 

So he was recording his perspective now, while he could still keep the door, the portal to this oppressive, hungry  _ other _ firmly shut, and trust that he wasn’t remembering more than what he had actually experienced. Trust that he wasn’t Seeing too much or Knowing how his memories looked from the outside. 

So it was just supposed to be a record of his past. He had been planning to put it on tape because he had always thought better when he could speak out loud, and apparently he was too far past human from his voice to record on digital anymore.

(Jon had a video that Sasha had taken years ago, before he had been promoted, of the only time Tim had ever convinced him to come to karaoke night. He sounds rough, and absolutely not at his best, and his voice cracks halfway through the song but Jon watches it almost daily. It’s a reminder of who he was before all of this.)

The first warning sign that things were not going to go the way he wanted was the sheer amount of tape recorders. He had gotten so used to them just popping up when he needed them, or showing up during conversations he wanted a record of, that he had ended up treating them the same as he would an aloof cat who wandered into the room. That is to say nodding respectfully and then politely ignoring them until they left again. So when several showed up at his desk and more showed up on the shelves behind him all that Jon did was give a courteous head tilt before going back to sorting his notes. Really not paying as much attention to that fact as he should have. 

The other sign was the slowly building pressure against the door in his mind. It didn’t seem to be the steady pressure slowly and inexorably seeping into him like it usually was. The pressure seemed heavier, somehow, like the fear god he was beholden to was pulling at him instead of pushing. A force trying to counter Jon’s movements and keep him in place. 

Between both of these Jon should have known something was going to happen, it had been obvious. And to a certain extent he had known it, he maybe even Knew it, but he was exhausted and had so many things he needed to be doing after this. And he was Hungry and very deliberately not thinking about everything that that meant. So he just wanted to get it done. 

Besides, he had made it this far in life by making one mistake after another and forcing himself to stick through the aftermath. One more disaster wouldn’t change the world. 

So he settled into his chair and prepared to start from the beginning. He frankly hated stories that wandered through the narrative, jumping back and forth in time with no real forward progression. In Statements that was typically a solid signifier of the Spiral, so it made them easy to categorize, however it was still a headache to read. 

Therefore he was starting where this mess of a life he was living began– It hadn’t actually started at his first true Statement, not really. It had begun when Martin had come back from his run in with the Corruption.

With Jane Prentiss.

That was the first time he felt the Eye stir within his mind. A slow insidious pressure that he hadn’t understood at the time. But that had been the first time one of the Eye’s marked had been threatened while he was the Archivist and it hadn’t been pleased. Jon wasn’t either of course, despite all appearances in those early days his team were still very important to him, but at that exact moment his displeasure had an echo, or a duality to it that hadn’t been there before.

So that’s where he started. He shuffled that page of notes to the front of the pile and opened his mouth. Before he could even get a single word out he heard the scattershot clicks of dozens of tape recorders all turning on and beginning to play. Abruptly he felt a tugging at the back of his throat, so strong he almost gagged as words began to spill from his lips. 

_ “Statement of Jonathan Sims, The Archivist regarding his past. _

**_Statement begins”_ **

The ground fell away beneath him and suddenly all Jon could feel was an overwhelming wave of information and knowledge that seemed to be grasping at him, trying to pull him under. That feeling got drowned out too, by layers upon layers of voices. Each one telling their story, their Statement. He felt the edges of himself begin to blur as he became each of the statement givers all at once. The voices grew to a crescendo and Jon tried to hold on to who he was, but soon he was overwhelmed and his awareness faded away. 


	2. …Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double post for the first upload, I can never stick to regular updates but I can promise to update at least twice a month!

**_–Statement ends.”_ **

There was an eternity of a moment where Jon was nowhere. He couldn’t see, or hear, or even to delineate where he stopped and the nothing began. 

Then something shifted in the space that was- In him? Around him? It was impossible to tell, and then he was skipping over and through a series of moments. They looked like memories, or stories, or faces, or all of those at the same time, or nothing at all and the images began flicking past him far faster than he could keep track of. 

Everything was spinning out around him faster and faster leaving him lost in the whirlwind before suddenly it stopped. Jon only barely prevented himself from pitching forward in his seat at the nausea of his concept of his self becoming superimposed over his body. The feeling of his mind and body merging back together felt like whatever the inverse of blacking out would be. 

Jon blinked quickly trying to get everything around him in focus. Everything around him seemed familiar but  _ off _ in some way, like he was in a memory of a place. Like he should know what was happening even though he firmly did not. He cleared his throat briefly and attempted to regain his composure as he attempted to figure out what exactly was going on. 

He was in his office and Martin sat in front of him looking worried and disheveled, because–

With a sound akin to a pop of a tape deck, his thoughts seemed to shift and settle like sand falling through a sieve, bringing his ‘present’ thoughts to the forefront of his mind. Martin was disheveled because this was immediately after his first encounter with the Corruption. Jane Prentiss. He had just given his statement and now Jon needed to–

“Jon? What’s wrong?“ Martin asked before huffing out a staccato breath. “Look. I’m not going to lie to you about something like this. This happened. All of it.” 

Jon let himself have one last split second of confusion before firmly pushing everything to the back of his mind as something he would deal with  _ later _ . 

“Yes, yes I believe you. That was simply a lot to take in at once. As for further action there is a room down here in the archives that you can stay in for now. Its climate controlled and well sealed. So you shouldn’t have to worry about any worms getting to you while we try to resolve this.” Jon said as he let out a slow breath, doing everything he could to keep his breathing steady. Martin sat up straighter in his seat. 

“Oh- Oh, that's good. Yeah, that‘s- that’s good, so- thanks. I just- I guess I didn’t think you’d take me seriously?”

“You say you lost your phone two weeks ago?” Jon felt the words tumble out of his mouth, following along the path this conversation had taken before. If he truly is in the past somehow it was probably for the best that he try and follow as close to the previous conversation as he could. Martin nodded, looking slightly confused. 

“Thereabouts, yeah.” 

“In the day since I have gotten several texts from your phone saying you were experiencing stomach problems. Most recently you texted that you thought it might be a parasite, which, given what actually happened seems,  _ pointed _ . I did try to call you of course, when you refused to elaborate beyond a simple canned phrase, but I didn’t receive any reply.” Jon mentally counted down as he waited for the text that he knew was coming. 3, 2, 1–

His phone buzzed. 

He didn’t need to look at the screen in order to see the message. The words had been burned into his memory permanently with the weight of what happens next. This was the exact moment he first felt the echo of this- of his patron. He picked up the phone anyways and looked at the screen to read it aloud.

“It’s another message from your number. It says ‘Keep him, we have had our fun. He will want to see it when the Archivist’s crimson fate arrives.’” As Jon spoke the overbearing pressure began to build in the back of his eyes, the tolling bell of the Eye reacting to a direct challenge shaking him down to his core. 

This hadn’t happened before. Last time he had just gotten a splitting headache from the intensity of that first interaction but hadn’t had enough experience to even begin to quantify what was going on. Now however he knew enough to realize that this was all external, not originating from him, at least not completely. 

However he could still feel the vibrations of the power still ringing through his bones. It was almost too much for him to stand and he needed a moment to breathe. How could he have mistaken this for simple terror, not when there was a overtone of possessiveness to the whole thing. It couldn’t have been this bad before, could it? Perhaps he had just gotten desensitized to the feeling and had forgotten what it felt like for the first time.

Jon dismissed Martin to go do, something. To go out and take a break and go out for lunch or just for a walk to clear his head after being trapped indoors for two weeks. Last time after his statement Martin had tried to throw himself back into his work but ended up having a panic attack alone in the archive shelves. Hopefully taking a break would stave that off for long enough for  _ Jon _ to have a panic attack of his own as he tried to figure out  _ what the hell was going on _ . He doubted Martin would actually go out if left to his own devices however, so after Martin left to presumably get himself together Jon messaged Tim to ask him to come to his office as soon as he was free.

While he was waiting he pulled out some various paperwork and opened another statement, trying to look busy. When Tim arrived Jon gave him a very brief rundown of what had happened to Martin and requested very politely that Tim, and Sasha if she was available make sure that Martin actually went outside and calmed down. 

Once he had said his piece he very pointedly turned back to his work in order to ignore the strange expression that Tim was shooting him. He was far too tired and confused at the moment to try to remember how to interact with this new-  _ old _ Tim that didn’t utterly loathe him to his list of problems. 

Sasha did happen to be around, (and why didn’t he know if she was in the Archives? She wasn’t the not!Them yet, so why-) So the three of them left leaving Jon alone. He heard the door out of the archives shut and finally let out a shaky breath, rubbing at his face. He shifted the papers to the side of his desk and crossed his arms on top of it, pressing his forehead down into his forearms. 

_ What the hell was going on? _

He guessed this was some sort of time travel or maybe a dream? If this was a dream or the work of the Spiral he would have expected more things to be off, but the only things out of place had been in response to things he had said differently than the first time. 

So time travel. Or maybe universe hopping like what happened in statement #0092204 with the displaced cleaner? But either way that meant that this was real and he should probably treat it as such which meant– Shit. 

It meant he should probably be hiding the fact he knew too much from Elias if he could. He had no desire to be forced into whatever tests and experiments that Elias would absolutely subject him to or to give away any possible advantages against the man now that he wasn’t in prison. (Anymore? Yet? This was already giving him a migraine.)

Jon quickly turned his attention inwards, searching for the feeling of voyeuristic pride that he always felt from Elias when he was ‘checking up’ on him. Jon sighed with relief as he realized he didn’t feel anything, then turned his attention to the mental door that he used to visualize his connection to the Eye. 

He found much to his shock that the door was completely closed and sealed. There wasn’t any leaking Knowledge or the constant creeping gaze that Jon realized with a shock that he didn’t feel anymore. That explains why he couldn’t See who was in his- the archives. He had figured that whatever had just happened would have left him as open and exposed to the Eye as he had been before, but this was a pleasant surprise. This meant that he could theoretically pull this off. What this was exactly  _ this _ was still very unclear at the moment but regardless everything would be easier without constant surveillance. 

With that problem settled and no other ones immediately addressable Jon felt himself truly begin to slip into a panic. He had always been able to push back his more debilitating panic while he had a problem in front of him but as soon as he solved it everything he was holding at bay came crashing back into him tenfold. His breathing had all but stopped, and Jon just gave up and let the wave of panic overwhelm him. 

Something that had been strange about him ever since he was a child was that even during the deepest floods of emotions there was a small part of him that seemed to be able to sit and think about everything rationally. It was never enough of an anchor to stop himself from breaking down, or end the outburst of emotion prematurely, but it did mean that even during his worst panic attacks he was still capable of thinking. 

He still wasn’t sure what caused it. The effect seemed to pop up a short while after his encounter with ‘A Guest For Mr Spider’, but he had never been able to determine if that was because of something that Mr. Spider did, or just because of general trauma related issues.

But it worked and so that's what he did now. His breath came in choked gasps and his fingers dug sharply into his thighs, but above it all, feeling even more distant from his body than normal Jon began to plan. 

What had happened last time? After the statement he had gone up to ask Elias about the fire extinguishers? No, that was later. The first time he went was for something else, it was for– 

His train of thought was interrupted as he suddenly felt the honey-silk touch of Elias’ mind against his own. It was there and gone so fast that he would have missed it if he hadn’t been on high alert. The connection was far too quick for Elias to Know anything except his emotions, which at the moment was exclusively panic.

As much as he hated to admit it Elias’s mental touch had given him a point that he could use to center himself, and pull himself out of his panic. He slowly worked his way back to a place of relative calm, and by the time he was ready to stand up he felt like he had run a marathon. He did need to go see Elias however and he would much prefer to so when he still had at least some of the mental protection that panic might give him, so he really couldn’t take a break.

As an added layer of protection Jon reached out mentally until he felt the vibrations in his bones and tugged at it until it was back up to a level that was almost unbearable. Without an open connection to the Eye there was absolutely no way he would be able to control this, but Jon had quite a bit of practice at being terrified of things beyond his comprehension at this point. When he felt that there was no corner of his mind that wasn’t utterly terrified Jon braced himself and headed up to Elias’s office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first few chapters are going to be similar to what my previous fic was but hopefully with less spelling errors
> 
> If you see anything or just want to let me know what you think feel free to leave a comment! I treasure them all


	3. Partners in Crime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which nothing much happens, but Martin gets a hug
> 
> Completely new chapter!

Tim considered himself to be a fairly observant person. He was outgoing and loved being around people, but he was also a tall dude with obvious muscles which meant he had to keep an eye on how he interacted with the people around him to make sure he wasn’t making anyone uncomfortable. It also made flirting and schmoozing his way into people’s good graces (either for work or just for fun) much easier. 

All this was to say that he noticed when something felt off, and in the last few days something had definitely been off, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It seemed to be coming to a head that day however.

The day had started fairly normal- hell it started well even. He had found the article about that fallen parachute and apparently it was helpful enough to be compliment worthy so he had gotten a point on the tally sheet Sasha had set up. 

(Sasha started giving Martin a point whenever Jon insulted him and Martin seemed amused by it so it had stuck. Tim really didn’t understand whatever was going on between the two of them and at this point he didn’t really didn’t want to try. It was fun to watch from a distance and Martin never seemed to take it to heart.)

But then Martin came running into the building with a handful of _something_ after having been out sick for almost two weeks and burst into Jon’s office. They stayed inside for a while and then Martin came out again and rushed off before Tim could intercept him. Then, to really send the afternoon into the twilight zone, Jon _texted_ him.

Jon “I must maintain a distance from my employees at all times even though it makes me super uncomfortable and anxious” Sims _texted_ him to ask if he could come into his office. And when Tim did, he asked that he and Sasha go find Martin, take him for a walk outside, and to ‘please try to prevent him from having a panic attack.’ 

He also said something about Martin having given a statement about something, but it seemed like Jon’s mind was about a thousand miles away and whatever Jon was trying to say really wasn’t coming across. But regardless, if _Jon_ had noticed that Martin was about to have a panic attack Martin must be really poorly off. So putting aside Jon’s weirdness for the time being he went to get Sasha and the two of them hunted down Martin. 

They found him in the store room Jon occasionally slept in pulling out the trundle bed with shaking hands. Tim stayed just outside the doorway and knocked lightly, not the least bit surprised when Martin nearly shot through the roof. 

“Oh! Hi, guys. Sorry I’m just.” Here Martin paused seeming to look around and take stock of where he was. “I was just- cleaning. The bed. For no reason really, its not important, I should go file- Something.”

Sasha stepped inside the room nodding sagely before saying, “Uh huh, sure. Totally. I absolutely believe you. Wanna try that again?” 

She stopped maybe a foot away from Martin her hands slightly outstretched like she wanted to rest them on his arms or hug him but wasn’t sure how well that would go over. Tim watched as Martin leaned towards her slightly then seemed to catch himself and drew back again. 

Deciding that maybe the direct route might be best Tim strode in until he was right in front of Martin and looked him and said straight out. 

“You look like shit. Want a hug?” Martin looked surprised but nodded and Tim stepped forward reaching one hand out to drag Sasha into the hug as well. 

* * *

When Martin finally pulled back he seemed a bit more present, more settled and when Sasha gently nudged him with her elbow he didn’t startle. 

“So what’s with the new fascination with the bed? Your crush on Jon finally hit pillowcase stealing levels, because like. We could get you the real deal. I’m sure I could find his address, and Tim’s always down for some recreational B&E.” 

Martin blushed bright red and Tim pressed a hand to his chest in mock affront. 

“Sasha! I’ll have you know that I am very careful to keep all of my illicit activities firmly _on_ the clock like any model citizen. However-“ Tim then turned to Martin with a grin. “-I would be more than willing to bend my personal rules for a friend in need.”

Martin choked on a half laugh and gently shoulder checked Tim in rebuke but shook his head. 

“No, no it’s not that. Its- I-“ Martin’s train of thought seemed to stall out and he switched tracks. “You guys believe the stuff we research here, right? Like obviously not things like the haunted toaster or the dog that can only float on Tuesdays, but like. The real ones. The ones Jon gets weird after reading. You believe those right?” 

Martin stares at them both his expression almost pleading and Tim’s mind flashes back to Danny, and that damn clown and nods, expression serious. He can see Sasha echo his nod and some tension seems to bleed out of Martin’s shoulders. 

“Uh, good. That’s- that’s good because uhm, JanePrentisslockedmeinmyflatfortwoweeksandnowimstayingherebecauseJonsaidIcouldandI’msoscared” Martin pushed the last half of the sentence out as almost one word and as Tim parsed it his blood ran cold. He reached out and put a hand on Martin’s shoulder on reflex, needing to touch, to know that Martin was here, was safe. 

Sasha was the one to break the silence. “Well that’s shit. Why here though? You could come stay with either of us if you don’t want to be stuck here.”

Martin shook his head. “No, Jon said that this used to be humidity controlled, so there’s- so its sealed. I don’t have to worry about them getting in through any-“ 

Martin cuts himself off and squeezes his eyes shut and Tim squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. He looks over at Sasha and sees that he’s not alone in his slightly confused expression. He mouths _‘Jon's being nice??’_ at her and she gives a half nod half shrug and mouths _‘Weird’_ back. 

Tim gives himself a mental shake and turns back to Martin, lightly patting his arm until he opens his eyes before saying. 

“Well, it looks like bedding theft _is_ on the agenda today after all. I refuse to left you sleep on that.” He gestures at the bed before continuing. “New sheets, a mattress topper, and pillowcases are a must. So off to Jon’s?” 

This time its Sasha faking affront. “To moon over fine, but you are not sleeping on Jon’s sheets you’ll get whatever nerd cooties Jon has. If you turn into a nerd we can’t be friends.”

Martin snorts and follows along after them as they file out of the room and Tim mentally pats himself on the back as Martin jokes back. 

“We work in an institute that studies the supernatural. We’re all nerds already. We're _Archival Assistants_ Sasha” 

Tim has an answer to that ready to go as he slings an arm over both Sasha and Martin’s shoulders. Guiding them up the stairs and out of the archives.

“Yes, but we commit crimes Martin. We’re _criminals_. That makes us automatically too sexy to be plain nerds. I don’t believe Jon has committed a crime in his life. I hate to break it to you but you’re pining after a square. I know this realization must be difficult, but we're here for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you see anything quick fix spelling/editing errors or just want to let me know what you think feel free to leave a comment! I treasure them all.


	4. Heir Apparent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things are revealed, some things are hidden, and both parties leave this meeting confused
> 
> POV-Elias

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CAUTION! Major spoilers for the end of season 4!  
> If you aren't caught up ive included a summary at the end of the chapter that you can read and keep up to date on this story!

Jonah sat in his office mentally tracking his newest Archivist as he slowly made his way up from the archives to his office. He had been expecting an interesting day ever since he felt Martin emerge from beneath the roiling mask of rot that the Corruption had brought to his door. 

If he had had an option he would have preferred to have arranged for some other entity to make contact first. The Hives were always a rash lot and had no consideration for the larger picture. Prentiss had decided to let Martin leave without his influence, which was curious, but then again patience wasn’t one of Prentiss’ virtues. He had hoped to take a look through Martin’s mind to see if he could pinpoint why Prentiss had left but Martin’s head had been nothing but a mass of panic and confusion. 

While he had been expecting an interesting day, things had certainly gone in ways he hadn’t predicted, and that was fascinating. While of course he knew the broad strokes of how things would play out based on a number of factors but he wasn’t actually omniscient so the minutiae was something he always had to keep a close eye on, and it was always nice to be pleasantly surprised.

For instance, when he had felt the deep thrum of his god as it called to its Marked, that was expected. However what he hadn’t foreseen was that he would feel an echo of that same call coming from his Archivist as well. It wasn’t a full connection, he would be concerned if it was, it was far too early for a link to the Eye just yet, but something in Jon had reacted to the feeling of protection towards his assistant. It had let the call to resonate within him and allowed him to call out with his own claim as well. 

The feeling didn’t seem that it had sat well with his Archivist if the panic attack he had briefly witnessed was any indication. If that was how Jon was going to be interacting with the fears He may have to figure out how to expose him to the more  _ passive  _ refractions of their gods first. If he didn’t Jon wouldn’t last a moment against any of The Bloodied’s ilk. Perhaps he could seek out one of the smaller sects of the Blinded and being one here. They would be far enough out of their element to be sufficiently harmless. 

He really shouldn’t baby Jon, it would just make the other experiences worse in the end. 

He did wonder how that Call had affected how Jon interacted with his assistants. Sending them out of the archives for his own privacy as he broke down seemed in character, but it also seemed to directly contradict the need to protect and guard he had unconsciously sworn. Although he had sent them out as a group which was unusual. Jon cared deeply for his Assistants but had a distinct inability to show it. It did sooth Jonah’s worries that he was going to need to keep hiring new assistants like he had for Gertrude at first, it was such a drain on the Institute’s resources. 

Jonah mourned that there hadn’t been a real opportunity for him to check motive and intent before Jon had devolved into his panic which was a shame. Perhaps when Jon finally made his way here he would be able to Know some more about his decisions. 

As Jon got closer Jonah was startled out of his contemplation by the sheer amount of power he could feel echoing inside of him. It seemed to encompass Jon completely and the result was simply breathtaking, a vision of what he will be once he fully accepted his role. The effect was slightly soured by the panic that was still coursing through his veins that only seemed to grow as he came closer to his office. But this was a very new experience for him so it was understandable that it unsettled him, and he would make sure the next time Jon felt this power it would feel much more natural for him. 

This meant that he needed to be very careful with how he handled this. The easiest way for Jon to accept this as his destiny was for him to think that what he was feeling was something inherent to him. He couldn’t know that this was a gift from something that was beyond him. The connection had to be tied to his sense of self irrevocably before he was ready to learn the truth. For that to happen he needed to think that everything that was happening was entirely of his own creation. 

As Jon finally made it to his office Jonah allowed himself one more moment to bask in the power radiating off his Archivist before shutting himself off from sensing it as completely as he could. This meeting would apparently have to happen without any prying apparently. It would be far to easy to slip with this much untrained power, to allow it to influence him and make his presence within known. And for this opening gambit he needed to be completely focused. 

Jon knocked and Jonah called out, “The door is open, come in.” 

Jon walked in and Jonah finally saw fully just how awful the man actually looked. He was deeply shaken and Jonah could tell he was still very clearly on the edge of another panic attack. The image was at odds with how powerful he had seemed when Jonah had only been looking at him with his Sight that despite his best efforts some genuine confusion and concern made its way into his tone.

“Dear lord Jon, what in the world happened to you.”

At the question Jon seemed to take a breath in and settle somewhat, which was- interesting and certainly something to ponder over later. But in the present Jon seemed to be getting himself together and Jonah simply waited for him to respond. Finally he got himself under control enough to answer.

“Yes, sorry. There was- I- We-“ Jon shook his head slightly and started over. “The archives need more security.” 

He stated it with such surety that Jonah was impressed. It had been stated with a surety that his demand would be met. He sounded like a ruler and that was something Jonah was very interested in cultivating. As long as the man stayed deferential towards him Jonah saw no problem in raising an heir as well as a sacrifice. 

He did however, actually need Jon to tell him why he needed his requests met so he gently guided the conversation to where they needed to be.

“Jon, if one of the statement givers became violent or threatened you in some way there are procedures that will prevent them from returning. Increasing security won't change that.” He raised his eyebrow and waited for a response as Jon once again seemed to breathe in and center himself. Whatever power he had managed to trap under his skin did not seem to be settling well. 

“No, it isn’t that. It’s Martin. He wasn’t out sick, he had been trapped inside his flat by the entity that was formerly Jane Prentiss. He only just escaped this morning and while I told him to stay in the archives until we can deal with the threat, it's not enough. I need–“ Jon cut himself off. The echo flared up intense enough for Jonah to feel the pressure of it even in his current state of disconnect. Jon almost choked on his breath and his eye went wide and horrified as he tried to breathe through it.

Jonah felt it as Jon coughed and seemingly pushed the echo away from himself and at Jonah instead. However when he refused to let the power find purchase on himself it quickly began to fade. 

Jonah almost ruined everything right then and there as he fought off a wide cheshire grin. This was such a promising start and his Archivist didn’t even seem to know what he was doing. He was flying completely blind and didn’t even have a direct connection to the Eye and he was already wielding his power more naturally than Gertrude ever had. As the power faded from around the two of them an unreadable expression crossed Jon’s face and he began to relax more. 

“Sorry, I am feeling, slightly the worse for wear after this whole experience. As I was saying, I would like for my team to feel safe inside the archives and I believe increased security would go a great distance to making that happen.” Jonah nodded and made a note on a pad on his desk more for appearance sake than anything else. There would not be any increase in security, that would be nothing but counterproductive, but he did at least have to  _ pretend  _ to have Jon’s best interests in mind for another few years. 

“I will do what I can. You may go, thank you.” As Jon began to leave, he lowered his block on his powers and reached out unable to deny himself one last taste of his potential Archives, and called out, 

“I hope you realize that the security won't be able to go out in the field with them, so if they’re in danger while outside the institute…” He let himself trail off and savored the spike of power as Jon’s protectiveness caused one last echo of the Call to resonate before it finally sputtered out. Jon simply nodded tightly and left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon goes up to meet with Elias about added security while filling himself to the brim with the power of the eye. Elias ponders the days events thinking how its always nice to be pleasantly surprised by the way the cards have fallen. When jon arrives Elias has to shut down his mental sensing in the face the raw untrained power radiating from Jon.  
> Throughout their conversation Elias considers the role Jon is destined to play in the future and how best to guide Jon to those actions. Jon leaves and elias fires a parting shot about the safety of Tim, Martin, and Sasha in order to feel the wash of power around Jon.
> 
> Another repeat chapter, i'll try to alternate between new and old to keep you guys from getting bored lol  
> You see anything or just want to let me know what you think feel free to leave a comment! I treasure them all


	5. Audio. Vigilo. Opperior.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johnathon Sims' horrible, no good, very bad day

Jon finally made it back to the archives, although the later half of the trip was made purely through sheer stubbornness and the tail ends of the adrenaline rush that had gotten him through his conversation with Elias. The trick of pulling on the echoing power of the Eye until it drowned out anything else seemed to have worked. Elias had kept his mind to himself right up until the end when Jon had walked out the door, and even then it was simply passive. There wasn’t any of the oily sensation that was him Looking. 

However that protection had come at a cost. This body had no experience with any of the powers he had been used to before. He wasn’t even really capable of directing it, he had found that out in the office when he had tried to compel Elias to just hurry up and give them the security already. He could recognize powers when they were used on or near him, and he understood how to hide from them to an extent, but his actual tolerance of them was still firmly zero. 

And much like when he had read too many proper Statements too close together when he first began as the head archivist Jon could feel the cost fast approaching. 

Stumbling the last few steps into his office Jon collapsed into his desk chair and braced his head against his hands. He flinches briefly as a burst of power flares up next to him on the table, startling him enough to lift his head. 

On the table next to him is a tape player with a tape inside that has been paused. 

Jon takes a steadying breath and just stares at it, the migraine that has been building up behind his eye pulses and Jon lets out a low groan. 

“I don’t suppose you’d go away if I asked nicely?” Jon sighs at the recorder, but when there is no response, or any indication that it heard him Jon lets out a slow breath and presses play.

For a long moment there was nothing. Just the sound of a blank tape being played, but then Jon began to hear something. It sounded like distant muttering that was getting closer and closer. As the volume grew so did the pounding of Jon’s migraine. When it got loud enough to finally hear what was going on Jon heard his own voice saying

‘ _-wait is that me am I hearing myself is this my thoughts is this-”_

Before it finally got too much and all he could think, all he could feel, all he could _hear_ was pain and screaming.

* * *

His whole body throbbed with an ache that came from everywhere at once the pain seeming to spill out from his head and flood down his body. It seemed to last forever before it coalesced into a tight ball of agony that seemed to scour over each inch of him, following the pathways of nerves and bone. 

Just as soon as it arrived it vanished, leaving Jon gasping and his ears ringing.

Or maybe that wasn’t a ringing exactly, it wasn’t a uniform tone, there were stutters and starts and- maybe gasping? Jon couldn’t tell, he didn’t want to focus he didn’t want to do _anything_ that might make the pain start again.

But no, the ringing was changing and it sounded like a tape recorder now, and oh. The tape reorder, he had to turn the tape recorder off that’s what started this he needs to–

The pain begins again and the last thing he hears before the ringing fades back in is a faint distressed whine coming from somewhere.

This time it was his eyes, they burned and every blink felt like they were being scraped against sandpaper. Jon tried desperately to keep his eyes open to stop the pain of blinking until his eyes began to water and he was forced to close them.

Colors pulsed and rippled as items around the room seemed to sharpen far too much around the edges, drawing his gaze before fading into the backdrop again. Tears began to spill down his cheeks without any control and the last image he saw before colors and shapes finally blurred into a formless darkness was his hand stained bright red from where he had wiped at his face. 

This time the pain didn’t stop, only moved, his sight returning as it moved elsewhere. The burning, scraping, pulling feeling pulsed along his skin in time with his heartbeat. It was like boiling mirrors poured under his skin refracting his pain and attention far beyond where it should be. Every movement hurt. Every involuntary twitch shot daggers into him. It took everything in his power to stay, completely, still. Trying to wait it out. 

* * *

Time passed strangely as he felt his body pulse and burn and throb in turn. Somehow he had ended up on the floor, whether it was voluntary or not would have to wait until he could feel anything other than this whirlwind oh pain to check himself for bruises. There were points in which he was sure he had fallen unconscious, others where he had to have been dreaming, and throughout it all was the overbearing feeling that something had forced its way into him, taken root, and started to grow. 

The pain began to fade and he slowly, oh so slowly regained control over his body. The first thing he did was drag himself up to the desk and eject the tape, collapsing to the floor once again in relief when the pain mostly vanished before turning his focus inward once again. His body could wait, so much of this, whatever _this_ was, rode on being able to keep his mind as secret as possible and he needed to know how much damage control he needed to do. 

Elias was thankfully absent and there didn’t seem to be any indication that he had peeked in while Jon was. Busy. The door was much less open than he had expected after pulling so much power from the Eye. It was firmly shut and only a few hairline cracks had appeared in the seal around it. Nowhere near enough for any Knowledge to leak through yet so that was a comfort at least. 

As he was about to pull back out and assess the damage to his physical body he noticed something new mentally connected to him. It didn’t seem to have a presence in the same way the other connections seemed to, it was smaller somehow. Instead of a door it felt closer to a quiet sound at the back of his mind. If he listened closely he could bring it more into focus and it seemed like- 

It sounded like a cassette tape being played. 

Before he could press further into this new problem, he heard the sound of footsteps descending the stairs to the archives. He hurried to sit up and tried to wipe away the blood in the hopes of making himself at least somewhat presentable. His eyes and bones still hurt and he was fairly sure that he had pulled some muscles in his back because even sitting completely still was painful, but then again that wasn’t exactly _new._ He had been having muscle problems all his life.

And while he was doing this, because his luck has always been atrocious, the door to his office opened. 

“Jon? We’re back! We got some actual sheets for Martin beca– Jon is that blood?!” Sasha was the first through the door, but her exclamation brought Tim and Martin rushing in behind her. Jon rubbed at his eyes and gave a quiet groan, casting this brain out to try to find an explanation that wasn’t ‘ _I have magic powers given to me by a entity I don’t understand and tend to make foolish choices with them._ ’ Which may have been accurate, but not helpful in this circumstance. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine. I got blindsided by a migraine and got a nosebleed. Im fine. Give me a moment and I can help you–“ Tim cut him off

“Nope. Wrong answer boss. _We_ are going to set up Martin in a workaholics wet dream. _You_ are going home because you look like shit.” Jon tried to open his mouth again and then closed it again at Sasha’s concerned look. 

“Yes alright. Let me at least clean up the blood first.” Jon started to gesture to the floor next to him where he distinctly remember bleeding a significant amount onto, but aborted the movement when he looked over and saw it was gone. Great. Just what he needed. Another mystery. 

At this point Martin came back into the room holding a wet hand towel and handed it to Jon with a concerned look on his face. 

“Are you _sure_ you’ll be alright getting yourself home? This is a _lot_ of blood.” Jon took the towel and shook his head. 

“Thank you Martin but I will be fine. Now, if I could please have a moment?” And after getting the blood off as best he could he carefully stood up to leave. 

Pointedly ignoring the concerned looks from the others, he gathered his things and headed up the stairs and out of the institute. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you paying attention to the chapter titles? 
> 
> ...
> 
> If you see anything or just want to let me know what you think feel free to leave a comment! I treasure them all!


	6. Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new perspective, but maybe not the one you think.

Let’s start from the beginning.

humans are fragile creatures, and rarely last a century.

I will admit taking a dislike to the man when I first met **him**

a private person.

didn’t take me 

seriously

not

realising just how wrong everything was

and

no intention of straying from the well-explored, thoroughly charted

no idea of the exact date but 

I reasoned they were unlikely to find me at this stage

**she** never 

did and

People-watching is one of my guilty pleasures,

talked on like this for a while but I stopped listening about that point,

except for a few interesting conversations

as I’d become enraptured by 

watching

**him** say

that it’s just coincidence and my mind’s playing tricks,

I was a bit confused,

when

I felt an impact

.

**he** was

making a statement about

Due diligence… and all that.

it turned to 

reverse

exorcism

?

I was, to put it mildly, somewhat taken aback.

I’m not explaining myself very well. Let me try and phrase it in a different way:

I think **he** was 

slightly spooked by the encounter.

so

I asked him what was wrong

but what if you don’t have the words?

“Grant us the sight that we may not know. Grant us the scent that we may not catch. Grant us the sound that we may not call.”

It was a stupid risk to take.

I finally made up my mind to tell **him** I was there.

Without warning **he** began to convulse. Thrashing in obvious pain.

trying to wipe the blood from **his** eyes,

It was a stupid risk to take.

so

I stopped

and held a

connection

out towards **him** , but I didn’t get any closer

People-watching is one of my guilty pleasures,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is tiny, but its important. Im almost done with the next chapter though, which should be back to what passes for normal around here
> 
> Let me know what you think of this chapter, Who do you think it is? Should I do more like this?  
> (Everything here is quoted directly from the first 21 episodes of tma except for some changed pronouns)


End file.
